What is the ultimate peak of liberation?

Bu Eunseol believed he had tasted the ultimate peak of liberation long ago. It was because he enjoyed playing ‘corpse,’ enduring long hours inside a narrow coffin.

What happens when a perfectly alive person lies inside a coffin? Initially, it’s merely suffocating. But as time passes, one feels the illusion of invisible, tight ropes binding the entire body. When even that time passes, breath becomes choked along with a stifling sensation as if the nose and mouth are blocked. Just when consciousness begins to fade, coming out brings an indescribable sense of liberation.

Was what I felt back then not true liberation?

Having left the Demonic Palace, Bu Eunseol finally tasted the pinnacle of liberation. The White Demon Monastery and the Flower Rain Sword Sect had tried to kill him by any means necessary. He had barely escaped their trap with his life.

Afterward, having barely awakened from severe injuries, a Peerless Demonic Master whose emotions were impossible to predict had toyed with his life held in the palm of his hand. If he had slipped even for a moment, Bu Eunseol would have been walking the Sanzu River (the river to the afterlife), not the official road.

—We have prepared a carriage.

But perhaps due to the unexpected result?

When Bu Eunseol emerged looking fine, the Demonic Palace sent an old horse and an even older coachman.

But Bu Eunseol was not disappointed.

Returning to Wolf Fang Pavilion meant crossing lines of life and death to learn martial arts again anyway.

Then wouldn’t it be okay if the journey back is a little delayed?

Such a thought crossed his mind.

Another fortunate thing was that he had received plenty of travel expenses when leaving Wolf Fang Pavilion.

—I will just return alone.

If he wanted, he could buy a carriage and a driver to return.

Bu Eunseol, having left the Demonic Palace alone, decided to look around the nearby villages before returning.

Yeollae Inn.

It was a place Bu Eunseol entered to satisfy his hunger after wandering here and there.

Buzz buzz.

Perhaps because the Demonic Palace headquarters was nearby, most of those filling the inn seemed to be martial artists of the Demonic Path. Occasionally, some cast glances at Bu Eunseol, but since he didn’t carry a single weapon, they seemed to think he was a simple tourist.

Bu Eunseol, having filled his stomach, stepped out of the inn and made his way toward the inner part of the market street to find a carriage. Unlike his usual brisk pace, he now walked leisurely, like a neighborhood idler. However, as he observed the surrounding scenery, a strange sense of dissonance began to gnaw at him. He realized something he hadn’t noticed before—the peaceful scenery felt unfamiliar.

I have changed.

Since leaving the Ping’an Mortuary, his days had been consumed by martial arts and fighting. He had transitioned from the life of a mortician to that of a martial artist too abruptly.

I… didn’t want this.

Bu Eunseol looked down at his two hands, stained with the blood of countless boys and girls who had participated in the Ten Demonic Successor Tournament. This was never what he had wanted.

Halt.

Bu Eunseol, lost in thought, slowed his steps by a beat. An uncomfortable and strange sensation washed over him—the gaze of a beast eyeing its prey.

I should have obtained a sword from the Demonic Palace.

His iron sword, brought from Wolf Fang Pavilion, had snapped in two when he had blocked Go Gun-pyeong’s final move. He had left it behind at the Demonic Palace. Sighing, Bu Eunseol changed direction and headed toward the smithy at the end of the shopping street.

“Looking for a weapon?”

The blacksmith, seeing Bu Eunseol as a wandering boy, grinned and pointed to the display stand where weapons were lined up.

“A light sword is good for young people.”

Where the blacksmith pointed, longswords flowing with glitter were displayed.

Swish.

Picking up a longsword, Bu Eunseol frowned.

The appearance was plausible, but the blade was too thin and the center of gravity was completely off. It felt like it would shatter if it clashed with another weapon. In short, it was a sword perfectly suited for decoration in a rich young master’s room.

“Is there nothing cheaper? Even used ones are fine.”

At Bu Eunseol’s words, the blacksmith pointed to the boxes at the end of the stand with a deflated face.

“Pick one from there. Whatever you pick, I’ll give it to you for five nyang of silver.”

In the large box, old swords were piled up in layers. Most were rusted, and many lacked scabbards. Rummaging through the piled swords, Bu Eunseol picked up one covered in rust. It was so old and rusty that it looked like an unfinished sword that had only taken the shape of a blade.

“I will take this one.”

“That one?”

The blacksmith, perhaps pricked by conscience, scratched his head and held out an iron sword from another box.

“Use this instead. If you’re planning to cut anything, that is.”

“I will just take this.”

Placing five silver ingots on the table, Bu Eunseol stepped out of the smithy. Leaving the village entrance, he ventured into a secluded forest path.

Thud. Thud.

After a leisurely walk, Bu Eunseol halted when a vast reed field came into view.

Inhaling deeply, he sensed the metallic scent of blood carried by the wind.

“Come out.”

Bu Eunseol muttered low, gazing at the distant sky.

“Unless you’re seeking a better place than this.”

Rustling.

Suddenly, the reeds blooming in all directions swayed dizzily, and dark shadows emerged around Bu Eunseol. It appeared as if black mist rose from the ground and formed into human shapes.

“Hmm.”

Bu Eunseol frowned.

The shadows that revealed themselves all had their faces concealed and wore identical swords. They were clearly martial artists belonging to a single sect.

“Your eye is quite sharp.”

Among the masked men covering their faces, one who seemed to be the leader stepped forward.

“Bu Eunseol.”

“Do you know me?”

“Of course. From the fact that you are some sort of Successor…” The masked man’s eyes flashed as he spoke. “We also know that in about three years, you will become a Demonic Seed and wreak havoc upon the Murim.”

“Talking nonsense.”

“Nonsense?” The masked man retorted sharply. “Do you not realize that as individuals like you grow, the Demonic Palace and the Demonic Path flourish?”

Demonic Palace and Demonic Path…

He had only chosen to become a martial artist for revenge. He was not a bloodthirsty demon. He had no intention of interfering in sect interests or struggles for rights, nor did he have any desire for fame.

“Do you want to kill me?”

“Want to kill you? You’re mistaken about something,” the masked man smirked and looked at Bu Eunseol. “We hold the power over your life and death. It’s not that we want to kill you; it’s that it has been decided you will die.”

“Power over life and death?”

In an instant, Bu Eunseol’s eyes filled with killing intent. Those who call themselves strong and mistakenly believe they can dictate the fate of others. He despised such people the most.

“Huhu. The strong can dictate the fate of the weak. That’s the Murim.”

At the masked man’s words, Bu Eunseol nodded. “Then I will dictate too.” Crimson blood-light spewed from his eyes. “Your lifespans end today!”

At Bu Eunseol’s murderous shout, the masked man shouted to his colleagues.

“Unfold the formation!”

Whirrr.

The masked men surrounding Bu Eunseol divided into two lines, one spinning left and the other spinning right.

Shing.

Drawing his iron sword, Bu Eunseol thrust it toward the spinning masked men.

Clang!

But before he could fully unfold the technique, the tip of the sword Bu Eunseol extended bounced off as if bending.

Strange tactic.

It felt as if an invisible force had deflected the sword. In the meantime, a sharp sword move flying from somewhere grazed Bu Eunseol’s shoulder.

Slash!

Clothes tore, and a faint line of blood was drawn on Bu Eunseol’s shoulder. Because the masked men moved dizzily and constantly created afterimages, Bu Eunseol couldn’t grasp where the sword moves were pouring from.

Slash slash!

Sharp sword moves poured down again.

Bu Eunseol quickly dodged the attacks and attempted to counterattack, but his sword bounced off every time.

The movements of the masked men, seemingly swinging swords while moving dizzily, were compensating for each other’s gaps.

They had practiced attacking together for a long time.

The masked men employed the Whirling Killing Curtain Formation, a formidable formation of the Orthodox factions. However, Bu Eunseol, unfamiliar with formations, mistook it for a peculiar combined attack technique they had practiced for an extended period.

Whish. Then, a sword that had suddenly appeared grazed Bu Eunseol’s shoulder once more.

“…?”

In that moment, a puzzled light flickered in Bu Eunseol’s eyes. The move was sharp, but it couldn’t be classified as a killing move. Its sole intention was to pierce near the shoulder well acupoint, rendering him unable to fight.

Was it not Demonic Sword Arts?

Although their sword arts appeared persistent and vicious, the masked men’s movements aimed more at vital points on the limbs than at taking a life.

This has nothing to do with me.

Bu Eunseol wasn’t even curious about who they were or why they were trying to kill him. Isn’t the Murim a place where killing and being killed are commonplace?

Vooom.

As Bu Eunseol drew up his internal energy, red light specks danced around his body, amplifying his senses to dozens of times their normal level. He had unleashed all the internal energy and senses of the Way of the Beast he hadn’t used until now.

Flash!

Opening his eyes wide, Bu Eunseol saw the sword moves of the masked men, which had been invisible before, become clear. They seemed to be moving dizzily, but they maintained constant footwork and sword arts.

Interesting. They are simply following a set rule. The moment a formation is broken, their movements become useless.

A smile spread across Bu Eunseol’s lips as he realized they were repeating constant movements.

Swoosh!

Bu Eunseol extended his sword toward the center of the spinning masked men. Swords of the masked men poured from all directions, but Bu Eunseol unfolded his sword without hesitation.

Feints, anyway.

Clang!

In that instant, the spinning masked men’s movements stopped. One masked man had shown a movement different from the formation to block Bu Eunseol’s attack.

“Do not panic!”

The leader masked man, thinking Bu Eunseol had discovered a gap in the formation, shouted loudly.

“Unfold the Second Formation!”

Then, the masked men began to move dizzily, unleashing sword strikes. However, Bu Eunseol had already reached the peak of the Way of the Beast. Despite their dizzying movements, it was effortless to exploit their gaps.

Their combined attack was formidable, but the gaps between individual masked men were significant. They moved like constellations in the night sky, but when a few masked men’s footwork got tangled, gaps quickly became apparent.

I suppose this is the end.

As the tedious movements continued, Bu Eunseol finally unleashed a killing move.

“Argh!”

As the sword sliced through the air, one of the dizzily moving masked men clutched his neck and let out a desperate scream. In a lightning-fast single strike, the carotid artery near his neck was severed.

He had grasped the gap in the Seven Stars Solitary Sword Formation in that instant?

The Second Formation—what the masked men were unfolding now was the Seven Stars Solitary Sword Formation.

To break the supreme formation of the Wudang Sect, which had never been broken until now, in a single move? The Demonic Palace had already taught the Ten Demonic Successor the Formation Breaking Methods of the Orthodox factions!

Firmly misunderstanding Bu Eunseol’s abilities, the leader masked man gritted his teeth. “Use the Third Formation!”